


Difficulties in Classroom Management

by purpleeyesandbowties



Series: Addy and the Maitlands [7]
Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider, addy goes to school!, beetlelands - relationship, but it's not a huge part of it, me flexing my limited early childhood ed vocab, try 2 catch my fleeting reference to Children We Didn't Have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:48:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpleeyesandbowties/pseuds/purpleeyesandbowties
Summary: Addy Maitland goes to school, and, consequently, Ms. Lind has her most difficult year of teaching yet.





	Difficulties in Classroom Management

**Author's Note:**

> hi again! addy is five here, and part of this story briefly overlaps with The Bastard Kid. i love addy and his weird family and other people reacting to his weird family. enjoy!

Ms. Patty Lind was in her third year of teaching and finally felt as though she had her feet under her. She could get through a whole week of teaching kindergarteners to be functioning people without needing a quick, frustrated cry in the teacher’s lounge. She could clean up any bodily fluids chucked her way without flinching. She could tactfully inform parents their little angel needed to see a doctor about their behavior problems if they’d like to continue to be a part of her class.

Then, of course, Addison Maitland had to transfer into her classroom and yank the proverbial rug from under her by virtue of being the strangest, most ineffable kid she’d ever met. She’d gotten his paperwork the weekend before he was due to show up, mid-way through October. It was alright time to change classes—between quarters, so they were due to start new units soon anyway. According to his intake sheet, he hadn’t been to school before— he was homeschooled, though it didn’t say by who. Interestingly, his last name was Maitland but his legal guardians were listed as Charles and Delia Deetz. Patty frowned, tapping her finger against her desk. Didn’t she used to know a Deetz? The vague memory of a dark-haired girl clawed its way up from the black pit that contained most of her high school memories. That was it, she’d been a senior in high school when resident goth girl Lydia Deetz was a freshman. Maybe she was related to the caretakers of this Addison kid. Or maybe it was a coincidence and Patty needed to finally get out of her tiny, everyone-is-related-to-someone-else hometown.

Addison Maitland’s file promised that he was healthy, needed no accommodations, had no allergies, and spoke English as his first language. All things considered, he should have a smooth transfer into her classroom.

Of course, things never went as smoothly as she hoped they would. Her first clue that this might be harder than expected was when Addison arrived, alone and a half-hour early, to his first day of school. The second clue was his bright blue hair. The third clue was the container of bugs he carefully set in his cubby’s lunchbox shelf. She stopped looking for clues after that.

“Hello, Addison,” she said, faking cheer and confidence. She sat down on one of the tiny plastic chairs and he took the one next to her. “My name is Ms. Lind. I’m going to be your teacher from now on.”

“Hi,” Addison said, smiling blankly. He had a look on his face like he was thinking about something more interesting than school, which, fair enough. He was five, after all.

“Where are your parents? Did they bring you to school today?”

She had hoped to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Deetz to discuss Addison’s needs as a student and maybe get an idea of his benchmarks so far. Addison kicked his feet.

“No, they can’t leave home. Uncle Charles brought me but he had to go to work.”

Patty nodded dutifully, noting his communication skills were well-developed for his age—a good sign that his homeschooling had not been in vain.

“Well, I’m very glad to have you in our class, Addison. Here in K-3, we have a lot of fun.”

“Okay,” Addison said. “Can you call me Addy?”

“Addy?” Patty repeated. 

He nodded. “No one calls me Addison, ‘cept when I’m in trouble.”

“Well, alright, then Addy. Here, come with me and I can show you where everything in the classroom is.”

She showed him the backpack pegs, the bins of markers and crayons, the bathroom, the bookshelf, the toys, and his spot on the carpet circle. He took each one in with seemingly genuine interest, but never emoted too strongly. She couldn’t tell if he was quiet because he was uncomfortable or just a shy kid.

Thankfully, he perked up as other students started trickling in. Patty went into teacher mode to help Suzanna with her coat, Andre with his backpack, and to assure Mrs. Collins that Yue would be okay despite her persistent cold. By the time she had time to spare a thought for Addison—Addy—he was chatting happily with some of the other boys. They were in the middle of the carpet, a whole host of small toys scattered around them from the classroom bins. Addy was gesturing with his hands, holding up a plastic snake. She had just turned her back when a shrill scream split the air. She whipped around to see two of her students cowering in the corner and a few more gathered around Addy, who was dangling something from his hands. The thing in his hand squirmed and thrashed and Patty had to hold in a scream of her own when she realized the snake in Addy’s hands was alive. Addy, for his part, looked panicked but not scared.

“I’m sorry,” he shouted. “Here, I’ll fix it!” 

And then, in front of fifteen innocent kindergartners and one horrified teacher, he snapped the snake’s neck.

“Sorry,” he repeated, hiding the limp snake in his lap. Quickly, Patty went to her desk and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

“Give it here, Addy,” she said sternly, like she was asking for a spitball or a broken crayon instead of a _dead snake. _Looking ashamed, Addy handed it over. She wrapped the thing in a tissue, stuck that tissue in a ziplock, sealed it, and placed it in the biohazard bin under her desk. That was a problem for lunch-hour Patty, she decided.

“Now, class,” she said, holding tightly on to what was left of her sanity. “Our new friend Addy has taught us a valuable lesson today: if we find animal friends outside, we don’t bring them inside. Who can tell me why?”

One boy, the one sitting closest to Addy, stuck up his hand.

“Yes, Carson?”

Self importantly, Carson said, “Animals can bite us. But Addy didn’t bring a snake inside, he was playing with a toy and then it was a real snake.”

“Thank you,” Patty said quickly. “Carson is right. Wild animals might try to hurt us if they are confused and scared. Being inside is very scary.”

“I won’t do it again,” Addy said, looking very small and very sorry. She smiled reassuringly. 

“I know you won’t, Addy.” 

Some of her kids still looked scared—and at least one was crying, though there were no loud sobs, just small whimpers. Addy looked close to tears himself. She clapped her hands.

“Friends, I have an idea! We should celebrate our new student this morning—let’s have our snack early.”

One by one, tiny faces lit up with excitement and tears slowed to a stop. Patty silently congratulated herself. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to bribe her kids with food and/or sugary drinks to get them to behave, but Addy had just murdered a snake in front of them. They needed a quick change in routine and a treat to get back on track. 

After that, she kept a wary eye on Addison Maitland.

—

Trouble came in an adorable package, apparently, because Addy’s mishaps continued for his first few weeks of school. During playtime, if he wasn’t freaking out the sensitive kids by eating both bugs and dirt (normal for a kid, but in rather abnormal amounts), he was playing make-believe games that included a _lot _of violence and death. She could swear he could teleport or multiply or _something _that would explain why she would see him on the swings and then, five seconds later, at the top of the jungle gym across the yard. One day he straight-up disappeared during lunch. No one could find him anywhere in the school and just when Patty was about to phone the family, the police, or both, a young woman with short black hair dropped him off in the front office. Patty had rushed down there the second she got the call from the office. Addy, looking annoyed and bashful, was clutching a cell phone close to his chest. When he saw her, Addy pulled on the dress of the woman and said in a loud whisper, “That’s Miss Lind. We can’t tell her about the bastard thing.”

The woman shushed him. 

“Where—?” Patty started to ask but the woman said, “Sorry. About Addy. Sometimes he just….needs to come home for a bit. He’ll try not to make a habit of it.”

“I can’t help it,” Addy protested. 

“I know, bug,” the woman said. She turned back to Patty. “I’m Lydia, Addy’s sister. If he ever goes missing like that again, give me a call and I’ll be able to find him pretty quickly. The office should have my cell phone number.” 

Patty, more relieved than angry that her student had vanished, decided to take that at face value. She skipped the lecture this time, thanked Lydia—okay, so he _had _been taken in by the Deetzes she knew—and kept a firm grip on Addy’s hand on the way back to the classroom.

Random disappearances aside, Addy got along well with many of the kids, and those who didn’t like him at least respected his bug-eating skills or envied his unnatural hair. Though it was clear he was intelligent, he was fidgety in class. 

There was one activity that made him sit still, though: art. His fine-motor skills were great advanced and he had a clear talent for drawing. Someone had been helping him hone those skills, Patty could tell, based on how confidently he handled his paper and crayons. He always had a clear vision of what to draw and never left a drawing unfinished, even if that meant missing recess or getting in trouble.

Today’s drawing assignment was a standard one—families. They’d done several of these throughout the year, and she planned to put together a collage of their family drawings at the end. Since Addy was new, this was his first family drawing. Patty would be lying if she said her teacher half wasn’t interested in how Addy would represent his family. Despite a month in her classroom, she still hadn’t met the Deetzes and she’d heard off-hand comments from Addy about his mom and dad. Her non-teacher half was also curious.

Along with drawing their families, Patty had instructed her kids to label them—practicing categorical and writing skills. She bounced from table to table, handing out encouragement, reminders, spellings, and corrections. Addy was hunched over his work, so she passed him by without a word. That was another thing she’d noticed about him: he didn’t like anyone seeing what he was doing until it was finished. Eventually, after every other student was finished and entertaining themselves in the play area, Addy raised his hand. 

“Are you ready to tell me about your family, Addy?” Patty asked. She saw right away why his had taken so much longer than the others—the paper was significantly more crowded. Addy nodded, pointing at this drawing. 

“This is me,” he said (unnecessarily), tapping the drawing of the child with bright blue hair. The figure was holding hands with a couple, a man and a woman.

“Daddy,” Addy said, pointing to the man, then the woman. “Mommy.”

“Wonderful!” Patty said. “Uh, who is this?” She pointed to another figure, holding the hand of Addy’s mother.

“That’s Baddie!” Addy said proudly. At Patty confused look, he said, “You have a baddie, right?”

Patty said, “Why don’t you tell me about him? Maybe I do have a baddie and I just don’t know it.”

“Ah,” Addy said wisely, “yeah, makes sense, ‘cause he’s invisible sometimes. Baddie loves mommy and daddy but he doesn’t wear a ring ‘cause he’s not allowed to get married.” Addy leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “he’s dead.”

He sat back up, moving his finger to another person in the drawing, a black-haired woman Patty now recognized. “Lydia doesn’t have a baddie either, but I said she could share mine. I share her mommy and daddy, see? That’s Uncle Charles and Aunt Delia.”

The last two people he pointed to were set apart from the other cluster, holding hands, with Lydia connecting the two groups.

“They don’t like Baddie as much because he did something bad to Lydia. Mommy won’t tell me what, though. Lydia says she’ll tell me when I’m older, but I think I’m old enough. Don’t you?”

“You should listen to your mommy, she knows best,” Patty replied automatically. She was more focused on the paper in front of her. She knew—had known—that Addy’s imagination was incredible, even for a kid his age (if a little dark), but he seemed very convinced of what he was telling her. Baddie? Maybe he had a live-in uncle or something and got confused about his role in the family. And then there was the issue of his parents—if they were in fact alive and well, then why were his guardians the Deetzes? She sent Addy on his way to the play area and took his paper back to add to the pile.

Hopefully, at next week’s parent-teacher conferences, she would get some answers.

—

Patty was torn about conference week. On one hand, they got a day off! Students were always very excited about that. She also loved sharing her students’ growth throughout the year and hearing from the parents about how to help them succeed. On the other hand….some parents were a bit too much to handle, coming into her classroom one after the other from 4 pm to 10 pm. Addy was scheduled for a respectable 7:30 pm conference, and she quietly cleared the time slot behind him. Just in case. Carson, one of Addy’s friends, had the slot before him. That had been a fairly normal conference since Carson was more or less average, but with a good attitude about school. Still, this far into the night, her patient, parent-approved smile was starting to falter and she still had a few hours to go.

Carson slipped out of the room while Patty was saying her pleasantries to his parents and she heard his delighted shout of, “Addy!”

“Carson!” Addy replied happily, like they hadn’t just seen each other four hours ago in this very hallway.

“This is my big sister, Lydia,” Addy’s voice said, still out of sight.

“Hi,” a young woman’s voice answered.

“And this my mommy, daddy, and baddie.”

Carson’s voice, sounding uncertain, answered, “where?”

“Oh, right,” Addy said dismissively. “Never mind.”

Patty stepped to the door, Carson’s parents behind her. They squeezed past her, took their son by his hand, and walked down the hall. Patty turned her attention to Addy and the small congregation of people around him. He was holding the young woman’s hand. Lydia gave a quick little wave.

“Hi, do you remember me?”

Patty nodded and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you officially. I’m glad I haven’t had to call you for your Addy-finding skills.”

Lydia shook it. The other people standing clustered around Addy didn’t offer their hands or try to introduce themselves, so she just smiled tightly and gestured to the door. Maybe it was rude of her, but again, her already-long night still had hours to go.

“Shall we?”

Addy skipped into the room and made a beeline for the toy bins. Lydia, tailed by a blonde woman and two dark-haired men, followed Patty into the room. Patty wrinkled her nose as the second man passed by. He smelled _terrible. _

“Well, Lydia, I know you’re Addy’s sister, but I hoping I would get to meet Addy’s legal guardians tonight.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lydia said easily. “Dad and Delia were both busy tonight, so I came instead. I hope that’s okay.”

Patty smiled her _not-really_ smile but said, “Of course. Who else did you bring with you tonight?”

Lydia frowned. “You mean Addy?”

Patty let out a very quiet sigh. “Yes, of course.” She looked meaningfully at the three others.

Lydia held up a hand. “Wait, hold on, quick question: how many people do _you _think are in this room right now?”

Patty glanced around. “Uh….four? Not counting myself and Addy.”

“She can see us?” the not-smelly man asked, not directed at her. The woman, also not talking to her, said, “I—I guess she can.”

“She’s spent a month around Addy. Maybe the ghost rubbed off on her?” the nasty-looking man offered.

Patty pressed her lips together, already done with this not-conversation. “Hello, everyone, who I can see _and hear. _My name is Ms. Lind. I am Addy’s teacher.”

“Right, of course,” the woman said, lightly hitting herself on the forehead with the heel of her palm. She finally offered her hand, which Patty shook coldly. “I’m Addy’s mother, Barbara.”

“Adam,” the normal-looking man said, extending his hand.

“Bee—uh, call me Lawrence,” the stinky man said. He did not try to shake her hand, and she was quietly grateful for it.

Patty narrowed her eyes slightly, looking between the two men, trying to figure out the family hierarchy. One could not politely ask which man was Addy’s father. Instead, she said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but…what is the family situation here?” 

She nodded at Barbara. “You’re Addy’s mother, but not his legal guardian?”

Nervously, Barbra said, “Right. Adam, Lawrence, and I can’t—hmm, how do I say this?—we _are _Addy’s parents, but we can’t have legal guardianship of him. His godparents, Lydia’s father and step-mother, have that honor.”

“It’s not because we’re unfit or anything,” Adam cut in hurriedly, but he failed to elaborate on why. 

From across the room, Addy said, “Baddie, I’m hungry!”

“Lawrence, did you remember to bring Addy’s snacks?” Barbara asked. The man scoffed and reached into a suit pocket.

“Who do you take me for?” he asked, mockingly insulted. He shook the opaque Tupperware at Addy, who came happily trotting over to take it from him.

“Oh, _you’re_ Baddie?” Patty said. “Addy mentioned a baddie before, but he was never clear about who you were.”

Lawrence gave a theatrical bow. “Addy’s third parent, creatively named by the kid himself.”

Patty nodded, unsure of what else to say to that. She sat down at the table—in the tiny kid’s chair, so Addy’s parents could have the adult-sized chairs—and pulled out Addy’s folder.

“Shall we discuss Addy’s progress so far?” 

All three parents smiled, seemingly in relief, and sat down with her.

“The little bug’s smart, isn’t he?” Lawrence said proudly. 

“Certainly. Let’s get started,” Patty said. She took out a few of Addy’s worksheets from this week, feeling much more settled and confident about—well, about everything. Oddities aside, Addy was just a kid like any other kid, who went to school and had friends, played games, drew pictures, and cried when he fell and scraped his knee. 

Addy’s parents and sister cooed over his drawings and worksheets and she felt that flutter of pride that came with being an educator. She waved them out the door fifteen minutes later with an absolutely genuine smile on her face. Addy swung between his fathers’ hands, his mother laughing at something Lydia said to her. She closed the door behind them, glad she had the foresight to schedule a break for herself. Patty was only in her third year of teaching, but she knew she could handle anything—even Addy.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sidras-tak on tumblr, come chat!


End file.
